Interstaff Assistance
by Tides of Gray
Summary: Albus Dumbledore requests that Minerva McGonagall meet him at eight to help him with something. Harry Potter wants to go exploring at night. It's fate that they'll meet...awkwardly. ADMM Oneshot


**I'm officially re-addicted to HP fanfiction. And at 10pm, my brain cooked up this little piece after reading heaps of Albus&Minerva fics. Hopefully, you like my weird brain.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Dumbledore and McGonagall would have 'gotten it on' _ages_ ago.**

* * *

INTER-STAFF ASSISTANCE

They said that Minerva McGonagall was a smart woman. Brilliantly intelligent, she could transfigure literally _anything_. She loved to teach, it was her passion, flicking her wand and passing on her knowledge to the next generation. She also secretly admitted that scolding Draco Malfoy _was_ fun.

The Hogwarts staffroom was an interesting place. Rivalries between houses (especially Gryffindor and Slytherin) played out subtly (other than the time when Minerva _did_ transfigure Severus' favourite armchair into a bottle of shampoo...the stink was getting to her). But everyone knew everybody else's business (or at least pretended to). Rolanda Hooch whispered to Poppy Pomfrey about how she saw Irma Pince snogging Argus Filch...in her own precious library! The student relationships must have gotten to them. That news soon found itself at Albus Dumbledore' ears, and he wished the lovers 'well'. Irma's ears did turn pink.

But everyone in the staffroom had noticed something that the all too clever Professor McGonagall had not. Even Pomona, who spent most of her time in the greenhouses, had noticed. The Headmaster was dropping all _too_ frequently into the staffroom.

Minerva thought that he just wanted a bit of social time; it must have gotten boring up in the lofty Headmaster/mistress' office (unless one counts Phineas Nigellus to be suitable conversation). She was not one bit fazed, and greeted Albus cordially every time he came visited; they were great friends, of course.

She didn't know what the hubbub was all about. All the childish nonsense about Albus' visits, for goodness sake, they were all _colleagues_.

"So Minerva, how is all the marking going?" he asked her one day. Her glasses were perched on her nose as she marked the huge pile of papers, snorting at Vincent Crabbe's answer to the question.

"Good, I think I may be finished by the end of this day," she remarked, as she wrote the correct answer down.

Albus nodded, "Well, Minerva, I haven't often called upon you for help, but if it is suitable for you, is it possible for you to meet me in the grounds tonight at eight? I wish for you to assist me with a..._certain_ dilemma I have on my hands."

"Certainly, Albus," she consented, not at all fazed. Of course it was only natural that the Headmaster would require her assistance! He bowed, and then left the room.

* * *

Harry Potter was sitting in the common room, engaged in a full out marshmallow war with Ron Weasely. Hermione was regretting teaching the two of them how to duplicate objects...one marshmallow turned into sixty. Harry levitated the marshmallows and caused them to splatter horrifically over Ron's head, causing Ron to look like a very badly iced cupcake.

Soon, though, the two boys were out of their minds with boredom, slumping onto the couch. Hermione looked on disapprovingly.

"Hey," Harry sat up, suddenly with a brilliant mastermind idea, "I think we should go out exploring tonight." Hermione groaned, but Ron consented. Anything was better than this boredom.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was waiting in the grounds, next to Pomona's greenhouse. Her hair was severely done up with pins, she looked like she was going to a funeral with her flapping black robes. She was beginning to get a bit chilly, and therefore, conjured up her tartan dressing robe, wrapping it tightly around herself. Hopefully no students would engage in night-time wanderings.

As her watch ticked to eight, she spotted Albus coming towards her with a lamp. Finally he arrived. Shocked, she found him wearing a silver-blue dressing robe.

"Albus?" Minerva motioned to his choice of dress.

Albus smiled, "Robes are stuffy for this time of day...or shall I say, night. Thank you, Minerva, for coming here tonight."

"So what do you want me to help you with, Albus?"

"Well..."

* * *

It was eight, and Harry was watching the Marauder's Map for signs of Filch.

Hermione was going over the rules.

"We've got to be back by nine, and we're not to do anything silly."

"Relax, Hermione," Ron put his arm casually around her shoulders.

"Hey, guys, look at this!" Harry called, and at once, his friends were peering over his shoulders.

"Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall are out in the grounds! Alone! Next to Professor Sprout's greenhouse!" Harry pointed to the two dots that were close to one another.

"Let's go out and see what they're talking about!" Ron suggested, and Harry nodded enthusiastically. Hermione looked a bit reserved, but after severe coaxing, she followed them, ducking under the Invisibility Cloak.

* * *

"Minerva, I've known you for a long time," Albus began, taking a deep breath. Minerva was beginning to get a bit exasperated.

"Albus, I just want to know what you need help with! I'm getting a bit chilly."

"Well...if you put it like that..."

Albus leant in pressed his lips against Minerva's.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Hermione were hurrying across the grass when they heard a loud squeal.

"What was that?" Hermione's face paled.

"It sounded like Professor McGonagall," Ron's face was scarily white, as the trio turned to look at one another.

* * *

Minerva squealed very un-McGonagally at the pash. She pulled away, her heart pounding madly against her throat, where he kissed her again. Golly-Goodness, no wonder teenagers liked doing this.

"Professor Dumbledore! We should not be doing this...oh!"

* * *

Finally, Ron, Hermione and Harry perched themselves behind a large bush, and peered at the two professors.

Harry's face paled rapidly like Ron and Hermione's.

He turned to them.

"Are you two seeing what I'm seeing?" he asked in a cracked voice.

The other two nodded solemnly, fear etched in their faces.

* * *

_2 weeks later_

Pavarti was whispering furiously to Lavender during Transfiguration, their heads buried closely together. Minerva hated it when students talked during her lessons, and she stopped talking, staring coldly at the two culprits.

Neither Pavarti nor Lavender ceased their conversation, therefore Minerva utilised tactic number two.

"Miss Patil and Miss Brown! Would you like to inform the class of the subject of your talk?"

Usually, the students were meant to immediately become frightened and clamp their mouths shut. But Lavender stood up boldly, unexpected.

"Professor McGonagall, the whole of Gryffindor house would like to congratulate you in your blossoming relationship with Professor Dumbledore." There was a smattering of applause and cat-calls.

At that, Minerva's cheeks paled and her ears turned pink (rather like Irma's).

"You would...what?" Minerva attempted the 'disbelieving, angry tone' she was rather good at.

"Harry saw you snogging Professor Dumbledore in the grounds..." At that, The Boy Who Lived (after he was permanently scarred by the sight) and The Chosen One (to view blossoming relationships) stood up in protest.

And then, the door to the Transfiguration classroom burst open; and no-one other than the Headmaster himself stood there, his wizard hat lopsided, two sherbet lemons in his hand.

Rarely was Minerva's face red. But now was a good time.

* * *

**I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


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